


Ephemeral Euphoria

by CandidCanine



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Angst, Ficart, Fluff, I was held at gunpoint to write this fic, I woke up in a cold sweat the day after Momentary Bliss dropped, Is this really a 6k word fic based off of a single twitter interaction between two characters?, Just a personal interpretation of Momentary Bliss mv's immediate aftermath, M/M, Momentary Bliss, Phase Six (Gorillaz), Post Phase Five (Gorillaz), Post-Murdoc redemption arc, Song Machine, Twitter, Whew a LOT more angst than is needed here, Yes it Is, Yes it is indeed, a conversation between 2D and Murdoc about tea tweets and treats on the balcony, miscommunications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:13:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22616932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandidCanine/pseuds/CandidCanine
Summary: It's the night of the launch of a brand new phase of Gorillaz, and a brand new chapter of their lives. But Murdoc has to lay to rest the old worries that continue to plague him. It's  unlikely that a cup of tea would be able to help with that, but maybe it could help warm him up.Or;2D brings Murdoc his tea and has a conversation with him on the balcony.
Relationships: Murdoc Niccals/Stuart "2D" Pot
Comments: 12
Kudos: 200





	Ephemeral Euphoria

**Author's Note:**

> Fanart credits for this fic can be found in the end notes.

2D's been staring at Murdoc's tweet for what feels like forever, but no ideas come to him when he tries to formulate a response. It's mocking him. He keeps pulling out his mobile and glancing at the tweet, only to pocket it again when his mind returns blank. It might not have been an eternity, but enough time has passed that replying to it might seem strange and awkward. He's been sitting on his tweet draft for so long that Murdoc could've assumed 2D had simply ignored him or rejected his offer. 

He rereads the tweet again. Cheeky bastard, thinking he was so subtle. Murdoc's definitely teasing him, he's sure. Or testing him. If Murdoc was really serious, he could've just gone in the house himself and sought 2D out. There was no need for any prior correspondence. Instead, he sent out a tweet on his _very_ public Twitter account. A Twitter account followed by thousands of people.

It might just be a very heavy-handed way of forcing all their fans to guess what their current relationship was like. If they were on friendly terms or not. Seemed like the most 'Murdoc' thing to do— he loved riling fans up, making them speculate. His antics didn't just apply to their current project, it extended even to his interactions with his bandmates and his personal life. Of _course_ it would make sense for Murdoc to be frustratingly cryptic. Of _course_ he'd saddle 2D with the dilemma of how to continue their very first public interaction since _The Now Now's_ release.

Or maybe 2D's gut was right. Was Murdoc just using tea or consolations as an excuse? An excuse to… what, exactly?

2D's thumbs hover over his phone keyboard as he decided to bite the bullet and attempt a reply to Murdoc. His hesitant fingers begin to type.

_Hey Murdoc a hug sounds nice. I'll meet you on—_

No, too eager. He presses down hard on the backspace key.

_Murdoc it's 2D. Are you sure about—_

Too unsure. Delete.

_2D here. Murdoc are you being serious? I hope you are. I'm already makin—_

No no no, too... confrontational. Wouldn't want the fans to think they were having a row. Not a good first impression of their 'friendship.'

_Murdoc what are you doing on the balcony, it's quite nippy outside. Maybe you could go to my room and—_

Oh hell, that one's going straight to the bin for sure. 2D really didn't need his thousands of fans reading into his reply. The amount of fans speculating about the two of them was already alarming. 2D clicks his tongue in frustration and clears his reply again.

How should he respond without playing into any of Murdoc's games or allowing their fans to run wild with their theories?

_Murdoc, I—_

The shrill whistle of the kettle on the stove pulls him back to reality. A sigh of relief escapes 2D's lips as he sets his phone down. Just what he needed, a welcome respite before he had to deal with the massive headache that was his bandmate. Hopefully he'll get some ideas during his little break. 2D lifts the kettle off the stovetop and begins the delicate task of making the strange brew that Murdoc had been obsessing over for the past few weeks.

First, several generous drops of whatever substance was in the bottle that Murdoc insists is completely harmless _("Don't be stingy with it, 2D, it's got a bite but I can handle it. Hwahuahahauwha.")._ A dash of 2D's dried peppermint to go with it, because it was a natural complement of its flavor (or so a smirking Murdoc had told him. 2D tries not to think about what he was insinuating). Boiling water next, straight in. Steep. Strain the whole thing into Murdoc's favorite china cup. Cap off with way too many sugars, to lessen the overpowering floral taste of the tea (Christ, should this concoction even be considered tea?). 

Within minutes 2D is looking down at a steaming, _finished_ cup of warm and sugary liquid.

Still no idea how to reply to Murdoc's tweet. 

2D bites his lip. Sod it, he'll send the first reply that he types out now, ill-received it may be or not.

Sent.

He stares at the finished tweet. It's actually not that bad. Casual, somewhat flippant. Teasing, even. There's no way it could be misinterpreted, even if he did lie about the cause of the delayed reply. It's not as if anyone but 2D would know he hadn't drunk any tea and that the delay was due to him fixating on Murdoc's tweet like some pining teenager. 

He could see the beginnings of an argument unfolding in the replies, between a faction claiming that Murdoc was forcing 2D to make him the tea and another that insisted that 2D was making the tea out of his own free will. He quickly exits out of Twitter before he's tempted to reply to either side.

Now, the other matter. 2D grabs the cup of tea, braces himself, and heads up the stairs to the balcony in search of Murdoc. It doesn't take him long to find out where he is. He's exactly where he promised he would be. 2D pauses in front of the open sliding door leading to the balcony. Murdoc was loitering in the corner, well out of the radius of the balcony lights' sodium yellow glow. 

"You couldn't have just gone down to make this yourself?" he calls out to Murdoc's back, tone wry.

Murdoc gives no indication that he had heard aside from the slight squaring of his shoulders. Despite positioning himself near the railings, he's not resting his weight on them at all, choosing to stand erect with crossed arms while he gazed out at London's scenery. He's seemingly unperturbed by the cool winter night, though the faint scent of cigarettes lingering in the air tells 2D that Murdoc was attempting to keep the chill at bay by smoking. The remains of a half-finished fag, pinched between two of Murdoc's calloused fingers and scattering bits of ash on the ground, seemed to confirm this. A few short moments pass before Murdoc finally acknowledges 2D's presence with a tilt of his head. He meets the other's stare with a sidelong glance. 

Murdoc looks almost regal. Untouchable. Like a lonely king surveying his subjects with an airy indifference. 

That image doesn't suit him, 2D immediately thinks.

Thankfully the semblance was lost when Murdoc realizes who his visitor was. He turns to his bandmate fully, his haughty facade splintering and his face splitting into a smile. A restrained smile, but a smile nonetheless. Murdoc drops his fag and crushes it beneath the sole of his boot. 

"What? Make it myself, and deny you the luxury of seeing my face? I'm not cruel," Murdoc finally replies, leaning back on the rails. "Oh good, you have the tea. Bring it here."

2D doesn't move towards him. "You should've tried to find me first. We could've gone to the kitchen together."

"You were on Twitter and I saw the opportunity. If I tweeted at you, I didn't have to find you _and_ I get my tea hand-delivered straight to me. Might as well kill two birds with one stone, right?" 

"Then send a text," he grouses. 2D grips the cup in his hands more firmly when a cold breeze licks at his cheeks. "Christ. How can you even stand staying out here for long, wearing just that?"

Murdoc looks down at his turquoise shirt and unzipped leather jacket. "Hmm? I acclimatized. Back when I was still living with my father, I used to stay out of the house on nights he went home absolutely hammered. I became very well-acquainted with my neighborhood's back alleys and parks. Temperature doesn't matter much to a kid staring up at the business end of a drunkard's fist."

2D files away the new information in his mind. When Murdoc wordlessly gestures to his teacup, 2D finally steps outside and hands it to him. Murdoc doesn't drink it immediately, choosing to press his fingers onto its warm exterior.

"Where was I? Right. I didn't send a text because I needed to tweet it. The message wasn't for you. Well, it was, but there was another purpose. See, killing two birds with one stone again."

2D's brow furrows. "What're you on about? What purpose?"

Murdoc waves one hand dismissively, looking away. "It was for the fans too."

"The fans," 2D echoes.

"I thought the adoring public could use a confirmation that the band was in good shape. Er, relationship-wise. Tried to make it look casual and all. Threw a tidbit their way so they know we're mates again."

"You gave 'em loads when you came back last year. They thought you were lying when you told them we made up. What makes this any different?"

"Time?" Murdoc suggests.

2D rolls his eyes. "Did you really think some tweets after a long break would make them believe you?"

"Was worth a shot."

"Takes more than that to change someone's mind. You shouldn't care anyways, fans will believe what they want to believe."

"Right," Murdoc concedes, shrugging. 

When 2D doesn't add anything else, Murdoc faces away from him to watch the scenery again. 2D moves to stand beside him, keeping a careful distance from the low balcony railings that barely reached above his stomach. His bandmate had no such reservations. He leans as far over the edge as he could, heated cup held more tightly in his hand. His eyes meet 2D's briefly before they stray to the ground below.

"So it really wasn't about my orange," 2D says, changing the subject. He didn't know why, but he's disappointed by that. Just a bit. The thought of Murdoc wanting to console him after something so minor was somehow heartwarming.

"Did you want it to be? I can go out and buy you a sackful of oranges if you'd like. Satsuma mandarins, same kind you lost."

"That's not what I mean—" 

Murdoc exhales. His warm breath escapes his lips in pretty wisps. "I know you weren't bawling over a goddamn orange, 2D. What _do_ you mean?" 

2D fidgets. "Nothin'. Nothing much. It was just… I knew what you were tryin' to do with the tweet. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't offended," he says truthfully. Murdoc looks up at him.

Murdoc's face cycles through several emotions before he settles on bewilderment. "Offended? Why the hell—"

"Aside from using me as your househelp? How 'bout putting me on the spot with that tweet? I'm not _that_ thick, Muds, I know you were testing me. You were trying to see what I'd say to everyone after you extended that olive branch. You wanted to see if I'd slip up, didn't you? You were gauging my reaction. Am I right?" Murdoc's brows raise but otherwise he doesn't react. 2D takes his silence as confirmation. "It's sort of disingenuous, you doing that. Feels like you don't have any trust in me. Don't do it again, yeah?"

Murdoc opens his mouth as if he wanted to contradict him, but quickly closes it again. He shakes his head. "Believe what you want to believe, mate. I'm not stopping you. Y'know, it's not like I held a gun to your head and forced you to reply. You could've left it alone."

2D _should_ have done that. "Er… I didn't…" 2D coughs. "I didn't want to… to make you think I was ignoring you," he mumbles near-inaudibly, cheeks reddening.

"Cute," Murdoc deadpans, which earns him a flick on the ear from 2D. "And you're one to talk. You had my phone number, too. Why didn't you just send me a text instead of tweeting back at me?"

2D's thoughts screech to a halt.

"Uh. I, ah… erm…"

"Or you could've gone up yourself," Murdoc adds. "No need to reply."

"Er…"

Murdoc frowns when 2D doesn't reply. "You did know that, right? I wasn't trying to force you?"

2D scratches his head. "Er… to tell you the truth, Muds… the thought never occurred to me… to do any of that…"

Murdoc stares at 2D disbelievingly for several seconds. His intense stare makes 2D so uncomfortable that he leans away from Murdoc and drops his gaze. 2D only looks back up when Murdoc breaks out in fits of barely-contained laughter.

"Oh, you— you muppet. You pillock. Dullard— tell me you're not serious, _please—"_ Murdoc says between guffaws. He curses when drops of the hot liquid in his cup spills over his knuckles.

"It's an honest mistake!" 2D says defensively. "And I wouldn't have done either anyways. If anything, I salvaged your reputation with my tweet. If I hadn't done that our fans would've thought you were just full of it. All promises, nothing kept."

Murdoc's laughter quickly dies out with 2D's words. He clears his throat and looks back at 2D. "Appreciate the sentiment, 2D, but I've learnt those kinds of fans can't be swayed. There's no end to their ilk. And doesn't that make you a hypocrite? Why should it matter if they think I'm full of it? What happened to 'you shouldn't care anyways, fans believe what they want to believe'?"

"S'not the same, it's just—" 2D pauses. The truth was on the tip of his tongue, that somehow Murdoc meant more to him than anyone else's perception of their relationship, but he has a sinking feeling that the other won't easily accept this.

"There're times when saying nothing is worse than saying the wrong thing," he counters instead.

Murdoc gazes up at the sky. "Hm. That's where our opinions differ, then."

He peels his eyes away from the other and stares down into his cup of tea. 2D waits for Murdoc to clarify, but the other man appears as if he was unlikely to divulge much else. 2D sighs, electing to drop the subject entirely. 

Murdoc takes a tentative sip of his tea. 2D snorts and shakes his head when Murdoc pulls a face at his cup. He makes the same expression every time he tastes his strange tea, yet he still finishes it for some unfathomable reason. Must be because of his stubbornness to admit that his tea tasted terrible. Murdoc was never one to say he was ever wrong, even if it's at no expense to himself.

"Fancy a cig?" Murdoc eventually offers when he notices 2D trembling in the cold. 2D shakes his head and turns up his jacket collar.

"Y'know, smoking just makes you feel colder."

"Oh. Is that why I lost all feeling in my fingers now? Wasn't doing it to get warm anyways. That's what the tea is for." Murdoc's face twists when he takes another sip from his cup.

"I can't understand why you drink that," 2D observes. He watches Murdoc continue to drink the noxious tea with a look of equal parts fascination and disgust. "D'you even like it?"

"Do I have to like it? It's got health benefits. Good for clearing up the sinuses. Best to be prepared, what with it being flu season and all. Colds going 'round this time of the year."

"I'm not talking 'bout your echina… echina something. I'm talking about you putting seven sugars in your tea. That should be a national offense for an Englishman."

"It's echinacea. And I _had_ to put seven sugars in, otherwise the taste would be downright dreadful. Did you get to drink the first one before you added the sugars in? It tastes like juice made out of everything in someone's flower garden. With added mint."

2D bites his lip to keep himself from telling Murdoc that he hadn't drunk his tea at all. "If you can't handle the taste, why don't you just throw it out an' stick to regular cold meds? Seems like a pain to keep adding so many sweeteners."

"I'm just trying to finish off that bottle of echinacea tincture I still have. I can't let my work go to waste, y'know. Not to mention the ingredients." Murdoc spots the puzzled look on 2D's face. "I made it myself."

"You made that? How?"

"Dried echinacea roots and flowers, top-shelf vodka, a dodgy herbal medicine website, and about six weeks sitting in my dresser drawer, among others."

_"Vodka?_ Right. Now I know why you like drinking that horrid tea." 2D huffs and shoots Murdoc a look of betrayal. "I thought we talked about this, Muds. How much of the echina-wotsits do you still have? M'not going to be responsible for you if—"

"We did. We did talk about it," Murdoc suddenly slinks his free arm around the other's waist and pulls him against his side, ignoring the tiny gasp that leaves 2D's lips from the physical contact.

"I'm not holding you responsible for anything I pull. Everything's on me," Murdoc casually replies. "I reap what I sow."

2D inhales sharply when he feels Murdoc's fingers hook themselves into the belt loops of his jeans. He doesn't shrug off Murdoc's arm, but he does give him a look of displeasure. 2D knows it's a habit of Murdoc's; to be as flighty and evasive as he could when he doesn't feel like dipping into uncomfortable topics. 2D's in no mood for his antics. 

Murdoc takes the hint and stops fiddling with 2D's belt loops. "I remember. I promised. Murdoc 2.0, yeah? He's still here," Murdoc finally says, his voice low and lips pulled in a tight line. "S'hard to keep completely away from my vices. Baby steps. Can't be jumping in the deep end now."

"That's not an excuse. You told me you would stop drinkin' yourself unconscious, or at least at the point you start to go mental—"

"It's not an excuse, but believe me, I'm just… I _am_ trying." Murdoc takes another sip of his tea. "I'd never make it an excuse. I won't. I'm just, ah, using it as a crutch of sorts though. To relieve an itch. Y'know what I'm talking about. But it's not strong enough to have any effect if I watch the dosage."

"You drank that tiny bottle of yours dry during the video shoot for our song."

"Hence me throwing up. I wanted to know what it tastes straight out of the bottle. Can't a bloke be curious?"

"You _can_. But you can't be like before, Muds. Not if you want us to stay like this."

Murdoc lets out a tiny noise of frustration. "I do want— right. Look, Bluebird. I don't expect you to believe me. I don't have anything else to say to get it through your thick skull. But it's the truth."

2D glances down at Murdoc with skepticism, but it quickly morphs into understanding. With them pressed against each other like this, 2D feels more attuned to every minute flick of Murdoc's muscles, every bit of tension in the other's frame. He soon realizes that one single emotion was coloring Murdoc's every movement. 

_Uncertainty._

Murdoc shifts away from 2D and drains his cup till it was almost a quarter empty. The gesture sets off an alarm in 2D's head, but he doesn't know what for. The arm around his waist slackens but 2D reflexively wraps his own around Murdoc's shoulders to keep him in place. His bandmate reacts to the sudden reciprocated half-embrace by arching his brow at him. 

"It's okay Muds, I believe you," 2D reassures gently, lightly running his palm across the slope of Murdoc's shoulders, down to his collarbone and up the nape of his neck. His bandmate immediately softens with the contact but his eyes remain distant, not even seeming to register the dainty touch of 2D's fingers on his bare skin. "I trust ya."

"That makes one of many, then." Murdoc mumbles. "If only the rest of the world were like you."

"Your adoring fans who defend you to the death would say otherwise."

"There's still some wankers on Twitter and Youtube and wherever posting things about me poisoning Damon or other nonsense. Would be nice to convince them," Murdoc continues as if he hadn't heard him. "It's like nothing I say matters."

"Then just prove it to them. Show them you've turned over a new leaf." 2D hugs him more fully, resting his head on Murdoc's soft hair. "I'm with you every step of the way. It's like what they say, actions speak louder than words."

"You don't get it, do you." Murdoc's voice was empty, morose. "I'll spell it out for you. They don't care one iota if I change. They'll always think the worst of me. I can quit booze cold turkey, kiss everyone's arse as an apology for my fuckups, hell, even renounce my bloody Satanism— and everyone would just think something's wrong with me, that I'm pretending, somehow, or some other bollocks I haven't thought of. The minute I step a toe out of line, it's all over. Someone'll use it against me and I'd be back at square fucking one."

2D was at a loss for words, unable to refute any of Murdoc's statements. The man in his arms has gone entirely still except for the even rise and fall of his chest. 2D wishes he could see Murdoc's face but his own desire to clutch onto the other was stronger. The tight hold of his arms allows 2D to feel Murdoc's heartbeat, racing at a pace much faster than normal.

Where was Murdoc's usual bravado? His confidence?

"Thing is… everyone.. still… loathes... me. It doesn't matter if you're with me, they'll just twist our relationship to fit their own view. I'm the monster under the bed. The Boogeyman. Ironic, innit?"

2D doesn't laugh. "Fuck 'em, then. Give it some time. They'll stop flapping their mouths when they see—"

"How much time, 2D? How long 'til they change their minds? What _do_ I have to do then, I'm all ears. 'Takes more than that to change someone's mind,' you said," Murdoc parrots. "I'll sooner like Ed Sheeran's shite music than change anyone's minds."

"Don't throw my own words back in my face."

"How can I not? Our own fans just proved my point. They're suspicious, that lot. Have you read the replies to the tweet I sent you? They still think I'm abusing you. That I forced you to accept me. That you never actually wanted me back."

"The tweet—?"

"Yeah. Soon as I sent the tweet I was dogpiled by our band's very _adoring_ fans urging you to give me the finger and tell me to fuck off. Some of them got creative with their, erm, language."

"Loads more fans being supportive though." He couldn't understand why Murdoc insisted on focusing on the minority of fans who hated him. A very vocal minority, but a minority nonetheless. Murdoc had usually struck 2D as someone immune to criticism. Insouciance seemed to be hardwired into the Niccals genes. 2D blinks down at him, struggling to piece together Murdoc's vague answers. "Some of 'em even want to see us snog."

Murdoc returns his attention to his tea and chuckles humorlessly. "Really. I guess there's a few of 'em in every batch, eh 'D? Wonder how long it'll take the others to catch on."

The pointed silence after his sentence makes the jigsaw pieces in 2D's mind slot into place. 

"Hang on." 2D suddenly grabs Murdoc's upper arm, forcing him to meet his eyes."I just realized something."

"Just now?" Murdoc asks sardonically.

"C'mon, don't start taking the piss. I had it wrong, didn't I? You didn't send that tweet to test me. You sent it to test them _._ The fans," 2D concludes, watching Murdoc intently. "It's not about me, is it? That's what you said earlier. Or maybe it _is_ about me, in a sense."

Murdoc pauses. "Pardon?"

"Don't play dumb, Murdoc, you always say you're the smart one outta the two of us." 2D's resolve grows stronger when Murdoc fidgets restlessly. "You wanted to test them. With that tweet."

"I've no idea what you're talking about."

"You do," 2D says flatly, as if it was fact. It might as well be. "You did it because you were… scared? Yeah. Scared. Scared of other people's reactions. But you weren't scared of what they'd think about you. I know you, Muds, you're not the type to care 'bout some fans on the internet. No, there's something else."

"Bollocks."

"...No, you're actually more scared of what they'd think about _us_. That's why you don't care if I tweeted you back. You got your answer already. The fans gave it to you."

"Utter nonsense. Is there a point to what you're trying to say?"

"You were scared of what they'd say about the two of us," 2D repeats more firmly. " You were dying to know if they'll crucify you— sorry, _us—_ if they knew the truth."

"Shut it." Murdoc violently shakes off his bandmate's grip and steps away from the other man. 2D presses on, knowing he was close to the heart of the matter.

"You're scared of what everyone would say when they find out we're together."

Bullseye. Murdoc's face turns several shades of red, his mouth gaping open and closed like a goldfish. It would've been quite humorous to 2D, if it wasn't for the fact that only a second later Murdoc was violently wrenching his arm out of 2D's grasp and shoving him away. Still he persists.

"You know I got it right—"

"I said SHUT YOUR MOUTH, DAMN IT! I'm not scared!"

2D nearly leaps out of his skin when Murdoc hurls his teacup at the wall directly behind him. The cup shatters upon contact instantly, sending pieces of china and raining tea everywhere, all over the floor and the railings, pelting the backs of 2D's thighs and his jacket. The chill that the cooled liquid leaves on his exposed skin was nothing compared to the frigid stare Murdoc shoots him.

The tension between them was wound tighter than the strings of Murdoc's bass; the ensuing silence more deafening than their loudest concerts. But the harsh sound of the cup breaking seems to melt something in Murdoc. His eyes refocus after a long moment and his scowl drops upon seeing 2D's shock. The tense atmosphere dissipates but relief doesn't return. It takes 2D another long moment to pull himself together, direct his attention away from Murdoc, and slowly look to the wall, unable to fully process what exactly had happened. Regret dawns too late on Murdoc's face.

2D hardly notices his change in demeanor. His eyes were drawn to the sight of the spilt tea. Under the sickly yellow light, its hue appears more dark crimson than its natural umber. Most of it runs in streams down the new hole in the wall that Murdoc had made. The reddish liquid escapes into the cracks of the tiled floor, stains oddly reminiscent of—

"I… 2D, luv, I'm sorry," Murdoc says in a tiny voice.

A lone rivulet of blood _(no, it's not blood, it's not bloo—)_ inches over the tiles and pools around the toe tip of 2D's left trainer. He uses the heel of his shoe to smear the growing puddle.

"2D…?"

2D tears his eyes away from the floor and looks up at the other man. Really looks at him. Murdoc had crept a bit closer to 2D, inadvertently stepping into the dim light and illuminating half his features. The glow doesn't flatter his form in the slightest, and neither does his stance; Murdoc's eyes were a strange pale pink under the lights and the hunch of his back as he approaches 2D make him look smaller than he actually is. Murdoc's more green and grotesque, more a corpse than a human being, more like the monster he views himself as. He's a creature. 

It's a far and terrifying cry from the kingly visage that 2D had pictured earlier. It shouldn't be Murdoc who's scared out of his wits, it should be 2D, looking at his bandmate and so very clearly reminded of what he was capable of just a moment ago.

But 2D doesn't feel fear. In fact, he feels the exact opposite.

"Muds, you have to stop doing that when you don't get your way," 2D says levelly. "That won't work on me. Not anymore."

Murdoc flinches at 2D's words and shrinks away, making himself appear even smaller. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'm…"

2D doesn't feel fear because he knows this image doesn't suit Murdoc either.

He sighs and scratches the back of his head so hard that he could feel the drag of his own blunt nails along his scalp. Before Murdoc could react, 2D quickly bridges the gap between them and envelops him in another tight embrace. Murdoc stiffens up in surprise but almost immediately returns the hug, clutching back just as tightly and returning his warmth.

Murdoc likes to play both myth and monster. They're so inextricably linked to his public image that even 2D could hardly differentiate when he was using one or the other. Murdoc vacillates between the two extremes automatically, almost like breathing. It takes a monumental amount of effort to stop him from assuming either of his _Jekyll and Hyde_ -esque personas. But 2D knows Murdoc's real character lies comfortably in the middle.

"M'not scared. Just… cautious," Murdoc confesses quietly after several minutes in 2D's arms. "Y'know the fans will be rabid. Don't deny it."

He's neither myth nor monster. Murdoc's human, no matter what ineffectual image he uses.

"You're the golden boy of Gorillaz. I'm the twat who ran you over with a car and ruined your life. We're polar opposites with a horrible history. You celebrated when I went to prison," Murdoc continues, voice muffled by 2D's shoulder. "Think about it. You'll be ridiculed to hell and back when the truth gets out. You'll get called a liar or a victim."

"I missed you. I wrote songs about you. And I'm neither of those things."

"You told everyone who could hear that you wanted me to stay in prison. You never got in touch when you were off having the time of your life in Venice beach. You replaced me."

"I was angry and confused."

"You're right to be angry. We've more than twenty years of misery between us. You ought to stay far away from me. Why does everyone but you understand that?"

"I forgave you," 2D replies simply. He drags his slender fingers over Murdoc's soft cheeks, succeeding in making the shorter man shiver from the heat. "I took you back."

_"Why_ did you take me back?" Murdoc asks in a devastated voice and draws away. "You're mad, you are."

2D pulls him in.

Murdoc goes off-kilter at the slightest tug, pressing flush against 2D's chest with not a single inch between them. There's no resistance, no pressure. Only a squeak of surprise followed by two hands clasping together around 2D's torso, supporting their weights. Murdoc's stare travels to his face and their eyes lock.

The world freezes in turn, and it starts to tilt and compress, confining 2D to this one single moment in time. The cacophony of city noises become distant; its harsh, jarring visuals equally blurred. The only one who doesn't seem as muted is Murdoc, and it's because he appears _amplified,_ like his very being has sapped all the colors and sounds from the surroundings. 

With him so near, 2D sees every nick and scar and flaw on Murdoc's face. But he also sees everything else; his beautiful heterochromatic eyes, the way the soft hair of his fringe curls just right below his brows, the full pout of his lips, his steady gaze, even the unique handsomeness of his crooked nose. His long fingers wrap around the point of Murdoc's chin, brushing along the stubble of his unshaven face. 2D's skin literally tingles from the contact yet he's deadened from the anticipation. He has a feeling that Murdoc's aware of his intent because he mirrors his actions, reaching with a free—but hesitant— hand to cup 2D's face. Their lips come together like magnets, chaste yet firm. The tentativeness in Murdoc's body disappears almost immediately with the kiss. As if it was enough reassurance to quell every doubt in his mind. 2D holds him dear, holds him like he is precious, holds him like a lover. There are no words in the English language sufficient enough to convince Murdoc of 2D's feelings so it was best to show him instead. Over, and over, and over again until it finally sinks in. 

The moment ends much too soon. 2D draws away from Murdoc when he gets short of breath, but his grip is still as firm as iron.

"I love you," 2D says, staring back at Murdoc unflinchingly. "I don't know why I do, but I love you, Muds."

Murdoc fists 2D's shirt collar and yanks him again, their teeth clacking together painfully when their lips meet halfway.This time the kiss is more bruising, more urgent, more desperate. Palms rove over each other's bodies, hiking up shirts to feel the flesh below. Their fingers roam everywhere but neither seem to notice nor care. Murdoc questions imploringly with a wet tongue on the seam of 2D's lips and the other invites him in eagerly, opening his mouth for the other to dip it further in. 2D's immediately assaulted with a strange bitter yet sweet taste that makes him nearly recoil. Nearly. It's pleasantly cool and refreshing, but it's gone far too quickly.

His distaste with the foreign flavor was not lost on Murdoc, though, who reacts by maneuvering him into a corner and deepening the kiss with a smirk. The overpowering cool floral scent gradually lightens until it turns heady. Soon enough, 2D was impatiently probing his own tongue past Murdoc's lips, chasing the surprisingly addicting taste. They kiss lazily, less forcefully as they take their time blissfully exploring each other's mouths.

Their wet kisses only cease when the top rail of the balcony bites into the small of 2D's back. He breaks away with a gasp, gently nudging a disappointed Murdoc back a few paces.

"Right. Off. Unless you want to risk me tumbling to my death. The railing's too short for me to lean on," 2D informs. Murdoc huffs and complies with his request, but not without grabbing 2D's hand and intertwining their fingers.

"You're paranoid. Contrary to popular opinion, you're not a lamppost. Tuck your knees in or use your hands if you slip, you'll be fine."

So they were back to bantering again. 2D covers his smile with his free hand. "Okay, I won't keep away from the edge then. But if I fall, you have to catch me." 

"Alright. But if I do, then I want you to _really_ taste the next cup of tea you make."

"Wait— how did you—"

"I shoved my tongue down your throat, you think I won't notice that you don't taste of my wonderful tincture? You're a terrible liar."

Murdoc's not hiding his own grin. His gaze was so soft; so impossibly soft. As if he wants to utter three little words back to 2D, but he feels that it would be too redundant to say now. 2D could barely restrain himself from kissing him again.

2D hums, smiling. He lets Murdoc's question go unanswered, but this silence doesn't feel uninviting at all. Not when Murdoc's warming hand is a steadfast, comforting anchor of his presence. He feels at peace. It's enough to make a tune pop into his mind without forethought.

_"We could do so much better than this, emotionally in fences and momentary bliss..."_ 2D croons softly, eyelids fluttering as he lets the imagined song take him.

Murdoc looks at him from the corner of his eye.

_"We could do so much better than this…"_ 2D sings, voice feather-light. _"Oh Rita, oh Rita… "_

Murdoc's lips twitch.

_"We could do so much better than this, perfect little pictures of moments that we missed—"_

"—You sound brilliant. Always thought you fit that part more than that Holman bloke but I was overruled by the others. You're loads better than him."

2D flicks his gaze towards Murdoc. "Say, Muds. What's momentary bliss to you?"

"Why the sudden question?"

2D closes his eyes. "Curious." 

"I already answered that question in an interview. You were with me when I got interviewed, remember? Speaking of, who's in charge of picking who gets to interview us? _The Sun?_ Really? S'that the best we can do?"

2D tsks. "They approached _us,_ Mr. I-like-to-take-warm-baths. And all you gave that interviewer was rubbish. You helped write that song. Don't tell me it's all about bath water and rubber ducks."

"It's an analogy, you knob. And that, coming from the guy who talked about kitchen fans? _Kitchen fans._ Really, 2D?"

"Just answer the question."

Murdoc sighs and squeezes his hand. He's quiet for a long time.

"What is it? It feels like… it feels like when I have a few drops of that sodding echinacea and I get this pleasant sort of numbness at the back of my throat. Real good stuff, soothing at first. Sometimes calming. It feels like it's dulled all my pains, even the emotionally-induced ones. But then the feeling comes and goes in a snap. Leaves me with an acrid taste in my mouth and a bad ache in my gut. Then I start to wonder why I even took those disgusting drops in the first place. But I can't help but keep at it 'cause I don't have much else that gives me that same feeling."

2D doesn't speak.

"And it's like all these times we're together, too. When I'm with you. I keep on wondering when the bubble would pop and we both fall apart. Not because of us but because of everyone else finding out an' deciding to stick their fat nose in our business. It can happen anytime. Maybe when they see pictures of us on the tabloids snogging on our studio balcony." He snorts. "That's what momentary bliss is to me. When you're living on borrowed time. It won't last. It never does."

"That's where you're wrong." 2D cracks an eye open and looks down at him. Murdoc's brow creases with confusion.

2D can't help but interject. He agrees with a few points. Gorillaz has a new single, a new project, a new phase to work on. Too many unknown variables. Too much uncertainty. They can't afford the publicity that would follow when everyone inevitably uncovers 2D and Murdoc's secret. Public perception was fickle, unpredictable, and changed on a whim. It could ruin them. Their band. Everything they've built over the years. It might've really been better if they had decided to let things stay the same, despite what they both went through when they were kept apart. 

"I said I'm with you every step of the way, yeah? Don't doubt me. If we want to make it last, it'll last. No matter what anyone else says when they find out. I've known you more than twenty bloody years and I'm not about t'end anything now when we've just got our shit together," 2D clarifies. "We went through hell for this. We earned it." 

But 2D wants this. He wants this to work and he wants Murdoc to stay with him.

Murdoc smiles.

"Let's make it last, then."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this quite incoherent fic based off of 2Doc's tea-related Twitter banter. Can you believe this started off as a much shorter, fluffier, carefree fic about Murdoc tricking 2D into letting him give more than just a hug? But then I started incorporating more of my headcanons for 2D and Murdoc's post Phase 5 relationship and... yes, it snowballed from there rip. No, I'm not apologizing for this monstrosity.
> 
> If you'd like, come talk to me on [tumblr](https://candidcanine.tumblr.com) where I continue to gush about my favorite two morons in Gorillaz. Always up for a chat!
> 
> Edit: Almost barely remembered to put a link to [Murdoc's interview](https://www.thesun.co.uk/tvandshowbiz/10860083/gorillaz-give-us-the-lowdown-on-momentary-bliss-featuring-slowthai-and-slaves/) mentioned in the fic. Just gonna add it in for the ones who haven't read it!
> 
> Edit 2: The gorgeous [fanart](https://www.instagram.com/p/CCR1CFBJcTd/?igshid=h0uhtknwzxg7) featured in this fic is courtesy of [crunchchute](https://instagram.com/crunchchute?igshid=56m9qnq1jrw4) on instagram! Don't forget to check out their account and give em a follow! Their art is lovely <3 Thanks again!!


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